Inside the Facility
by NatRipper
Summary: The Trade was posion. It tore families, children, and everyone involved apart until nothing was left but their souls laid bare for the world to see. Slavery AU
1. Chapter 1

In the Trade, there was no mercy. On paper, there was no such thing as the "Trade". But those involved in it knew better than to simply dismiss it. The Trade was a vicious, unending cycle that swirled through the mafia like a clear, tasteless, odorless poison.

Even within the mafia the Trade was something of a secret. Few truly knew the darkness that entrenched the Trade, only having a vague idea of what it might be. In all honesty, it was an urban legend. Not even the mightiest of families knew if it existed, and the Vindice had never been able to confirm its existence due to the many misconceptions and rumours that swarmed the Trade.

There were several mafia famiglias that were built along the skeleton of the Trade, and only thrived because of it.

The Trade was, in its very essence, an organization whose foundation rested on the existence of slavery.

However, the Trade was a somewhat inaccurate name. In actuality there existed a Facility, wherein several divisions of Successful slaves resided.

These divisions were made up of children, stolen shortly after birth from their loving families. These children all held one thing in common. They showed potential- potential for huge amounts of power that could have been wasted among the masses.

*.*

XSR-59 hurried down the corridor, clutching the new shipment of unengaged explosives to his chest.

As one of the many SR slaves that littered the Facility, XSR-59 knew he had no real value in the eyes of the Overseers. They would punish him for any perceived weakness or mistake. He shuddered, remembering the few times he had been brought to the Room for punishment.

Shaking his head furiously as if to rid himself of the thought, XSR-59 quickened his pace in order to avoid that fate.

His partner, XRB-80 fell into step next to him, directing a silent question to him about his rapid stride. XSR-59 shook his head, grimacing a little, signalling that he would tell the other slave about it later, when there were no witnesses to the conversation.

After the meeting with the Overseer about the shipment, XSR-59 left the room, quaking slightly from relief. The man had been lenient about his lateness, merely backhanding the slave instead of sending him to the Room for a short lesson.

Outside the door, XSR-59 bumped into a tiny slave boy, who had a huge stack of papers in his arms, desperately trying to balance them all. After he had bumped into him, the boy's stack seemed to fall as if in slow motion.

XSR-59 saw the papers scatter across the gleaming tiles, wind catching them, spreading them down the hallway until not a single inch of the floor was left uncovered.

XSR-59 could almost see his life float away as the papers began their slow descent towards the ground, important, official looking black ink staining the otherwise pure white documents. The Overseer would not overlook this as he had with XSR-59's tardiness.

The small slave whimpered a little, eyes glistening with unshed tears, knowing, as XSR-59 did, of their fate.

A shadow fell over the duo, their fates sealed with the fallen parchment.

XSR-59 turned, knowing what he would see before his eyes even landed on the man behind him.

Spittle flying, the red faced Overseer had his hands clenched in front of him, ready to drag the two young slaves to the Room for their punishment.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE?!"

The boys cowered at his rage.

"THOSE SHEETS OF PAPER ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIVES, AND NOW THEY'RE ON THE FLOOR! DO YOU KNOW, WHAT YOU HAVE DONE! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!"

XSR-59 and the small slave looked at each other warily, both knowing their time was soon to come to an end.

"WELL?"

This Overseer's rage was well known around the Facility. The man would fly off the handle at any given occasion, and take it out on any slave in the vicinity. Any transgression, small or large, was enough for him to beat the children half to death.

To XSR-59's immense surprise, the other slave stepped forward without a single word. He hadn't even looked at XSR-59, or attempted to say anything, or any type of motion. He simply stepped forward, knowing that a fate worse than death awaited him.

 _Why?_

The Overseer smirked in a disturbing, sadistic manner that would haunt XSR-59's dreams for the rest of his life. Despite the fact that he had seen it directed towards himself more than once, it was worse than any other, if only for the fact that he knew he should have been the one on the receiving end as well as the boy.

It was somehow worse, knowing the other boy had placed himself in the line of danger for another slave, for _him_.

Anyone else in the Facility would have done anything to ensure their own survival, even at the expense of another.

Why would this, this _child_ be any different?

He knew he should have stepped forward as well, taken some of the burden off of the tiny, yet impossible brave child in front of him.

But he couldn't. He was scared. His legs locked in place, and even when he tried to move after all was said and done, he could only fall to his knees and wonder about the fate of the other slave boy.

He wasn't even sure that he hadn't been seeing things. The rule of thumb to survive the Facility was Every Slave for Themselves. It had actually been written on the wall of a few cells in charcoal by some brave soul who felt it their duty to impart wisdom on the later generations.

 _Why?_

And so XSR-59 spent weeks thinking of the boy, weeks of sleepless nights and hesitation and uncertainty.

Every time he looked over his shoulder, he could make out the boy's figure - but whenever he turned around the boy was never there.

*.*

Until one day, two weeks later, in the cafeteria.

He saw the boy serving the other slaves, looking longingly at the gruel he was spooning out in painfully small portions.

XSR-59 saw red. The boy looked, if possible, even more thin and subdued than he had weeks before, in the short, nightmare inducing meeting they had. Fiery, swollen welts could be seen peeking out from under his ratty regulation shirt.

 _Why?_

Dark, heavy bags pooled under the boy's eyes, which looked dull and empty and longing, even in the bright lights of the mess hall.

XSR-59 lined up to receive his meal, flinching slightly as the boy's eyes met his own, widening as they recognized him.

XSR-59 started to say something, anything. And then he couldn't. The words caught in his throat as the boy looked at him, with non-judging, non-blaming eyes.

 _Why?_

He fled.

Every day, for months afterward, he tried to speak, but every time, the words wouldn't come out.

The boy went from staring, wide eyed, at him, to smiling hesitantly as XSR-59 lined up in front of him.

Somehow, even though no words were exchanged, their relationship managed to grow into a sort of friendship. Not many slaves in the Facility could claim such a thing.

 _Why?_

It seemed, though, that XSR-59 was one of the lucky few who could claim to have not one, but _two_ tentative friendships within the walls of their prison.

XRB-80. An enigma, even to the Overseers. Unfailingly cheerful, even in the face of death and destruction. Yet you could almost see a glint in his eye that spoke otherwise. He was one of the more valued slaves, for his natural athleticism and an uncanny talent with blades.

One thing led to the next (mostly involving a lot of one-sided fighting and a little bit of blood loss) and XSR-59 had somehow been stuck with the most annoying, yet useful partner for their divisions' appointments.

He couldn't really bring himself to hate the other boy though.

XSR-59 was struck by the strangeness of the predicament he was in. Out of all the slaves in the Facility, one of the most bad-tempered had managed to find more than one ally. Most of the children barely even spoke to each other!

He couldn't let this strange stalemate between him and the boy go on. He didn't even know the kid's code!

But deep down, XSR-59 knew the real reason he had made up his mind to finally speak to the boy.

*.*

It took a few weeks of preparation, a few favors called in, and blackmailing one of the guards, but finally XSR-59 had cleared a time in the guard shifts, and gotten the cameras "broken" for a periodof time.

That night, after completing his planning, he slipped a note into the boy's hand as he spooned out his serving of dinner for the night.

 _Meet me by LG Corridor 9, by the second staircase at 3:00 pm tomorrow. I want to talk._

He kept an eye on the boy through the allotted meal time, and knew immediately when he read the paper. The boy's head shot up like a rocket, and he stared disbelievingly at XSR-59 for a moment or two, before collecting himself and looking around furtively to make sure no one had seen his momentary lapse of calm.

The very next day, the boys met exactly where XSR-59 had said they would meet, at the exact time.

XSR-59 cleared his throat a little, tilting his head away as he blushed a little under the scrutiny of the other boy.

"I - um. If you - if you don't mind, would you please - um - tell me your - uh - code?" The boy spoke suddenly, after a few moments of silence. He had a soft voice, nervous and slightly hoarse from disuse.

XSR-59 startled a little, surprised the other boy had been the one to speak first. He blushed a little more, suddenly shy in the face of his savior from weeks and weeks ago.

"XSR-59," He mumbled, "And you?"

The boy nodded his head in understanding, "XSO-27."

XSR-59's eyes widened almost painfully, and spoke almost in awe, "Di - Did you say SO?"

The boy - XSO-27 - nodded again.

"But I had heard there weren't any Successful SO slaves this generation?"

"There weren't." XSO-27 stated miserably. "I'm not - I'm not Successful."

"But they sell any Failures!" XSR-59 replied, still slightly wondrous.

"They sell all Failures _except_ SO failures. Not that they had a rule for it. The few SO slaves each generation have all either died or been Successful and then died. I'm the only SO left, period." He said this, slightly rushed, bitterness tinging his words.

XSR-59 couldn't really find anything to reply to that, sensing it was a touchy topic for XSO-27.

Realizing this, XSO-27 followed up with a jerky change of topic.

"So, um, why did you call me out today?"

XSR-59 blushed again, embarrassed at how quickly he had let himself be deterred from his mission.

He spoke the question that had been plaguing him for so long.

"Why?"

"Why what?" XSO-27 asked, slightly confused.

"Why did you help me? You could have gotten off much easier if we had both taken the blame."

XSO-27, unexpectedly, laughed at XSR-59's question.

"Why wouldn't I?" He said, not realizing the oddity of what he was saying.

XSR-59's experiences with other people had taught him that people were inherently selfish. When given a choice between themselves and someone else, they would always choose themselves. Hell, that was what kept most of the slaves in the Facility alive! For a tiny, mistreated _child_ to have more morality and kindness in them than all the people XSR-59 had met _put together_ -

And, oh. _Oh_. XSR-59 thought he might understand what some of the guards went on about when they were talking to each other about love and friendship and all those other nonsensical things.

His face grew hotter, and he stuttered through a few more trivial dialogues before he spit out the thought that had come to his head immediately after he had his revelation.

"Can I, can I follow you?" He asked hopefully.

"Huh?" XSO-27 scrunched up his nose, slightly confused.

"Will you accept me as your follower? Or would you prefer I be _your_ slave? I can do that!" XSR-59 hurriedly corrected, waiting with baited breath to hear XSO-27's answer.

"HIE! NO! No! Never!" XSR-59's face fell, eyes clouding over. "But I would like to be your friend, if that's ok with you." XSO-27 almost whispered the last part, nervous the XSR-59 would reject him.

XSR-59's eyes, filled with grief only seconds ago, filled with tears that he wasn't sure were from happiness or relief. Teary for the first time since he was three, and had visited the Room for the first time.

He couldn't say anything, he felt like he had swallowed his tongue. Roughly rubbing away mucus and salty drops from his face, he exhaled sharply. And then he nodded, slowly and shakily.

And XSO-27 beamed, lighting the room with the force of his smile.


	2. Chapter 2

XRB-80 knew he was unusual. He had no qualms with the work he was assigned, unlike many other children in the facility. Where the others would be vomiting up bile in the bathroom, he would laugh and joke with the guards.

XRB-80 didn't really understand why the guards, scientists, slaves - everyone really - all gave him strange looks all the time. He could pick out confusion and fear and a few other muddled emotions from their gazes, but he couldn't see _why_ they would stare at him that way.

He held little to no power in the Facility. He was a slave. It was in the dictionary definition he had found once when outside on a job. _A person who is the legal property of another and is forced to obey them._ He thought that it was a fairly accurate view, though he wouldn't necessarily use the word 'person' as a descriptor.

The scientists had been drilling the fact that the were not 'people' into the slaves' heads since they arrived at the Facility. They were projects, experiments, wastes of space whose only value was what had been assigned to them.

So why were the officials of the Facility who inherently held more power than he, afraid of a seven year old child?

The other slaves were no different - they gave him a wide berth in the hallways, skirting around him if they had no choice but to get closer.

There had been only one slave to show any deviation to the pattern so far.

He hadn't actually met the slave, but he knew they were part of the paired divisions XRB and XSR. It was a small, silver haired child that stormed around the base like he had something to prove.

In the few times they had passed each other in the halls, not only did the other slave not avoid XRB-80, he shouldered past him roughly, like XRB-80 had done something to him.

Each time he did the same thing. Shove, sneer, rinse and repeat.

XRB-80 didn't know why the kid seemed to dislike him so much, but it was kind of amusing.

He thought it was fate when the Overseer assigned them to a mission together. From the expression on the other boy's face, he clearly disagreed.

Even when the mission went to absolute hell, even when they silently agreed never to speak of what happened on that shitshow again, even when they were both punished by a short stay in the Room, XRB-80 kept his ever present smile on his face. He kept believing their fates were tied together.

After that, the duo seemed to have been paired on mission after mission after mission. Why? Neither of them truly knew. The motivations of the Facility were never quite clear.

But after a few months, they were nearly always paired together, making themselves known as one of the most effective combinations the Facility had produced in generation X.

*.*

While the two never got particularly close, XRB-80 considered XSR-59 to be something of a mutual ally, or a 'friend.' So, when XSR-59 began to act even more strangely than usual, XRB-80 picked up on it fairly easily.

Looking back, the behavior had begun and evolved over the course of mere months. For a few weeks, XSR-59 had been overly paranoid, always looking over his shoulder and looking for something he never seemed to find. Then, as if a switch had been flicked, the other boy was back to his usual self, if not a little happier than usual. His attitude continued for a few months, with him smiling to himself more often than XRB-80 had seen in the entire time he had known of XSR-59's existence.

To XRB-80's great relief, he was eventually given proof that XSR-59 had not gone mad like some slaves were wont to do.

After the behavior had persisted for a good stretch of time, XSR-59 approached XRB-80 almost shyly, which was so out of character for the child that XRB-80 was tempted to laugh, only barely managing to hold it in, not quite able to stifle the smile that erupted across his face that always seemed to appear when he talked to XSR-59.

They stood in place awkwardly for a few moments, XRB-80 endlessly amused, and XSR-59 growing more and more red and embarrassed, until he finally couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Come and meet a friend of mine." The question, posed as a demand, had XRB-80 raising an eyebrow incredulously.

Friend? XSR-59 had made a friend?

While that would explain the strange behavior, it was very rare for slaves to create so close a bond that they could be considered 'friends,' especially if they weren't among the same or paired divisions. In fact, XSR-59 and XRB-80 were some of the few in this generation that had managed to maintain a such a relationship.

XRB-80 didn't let his surprise show, instead grinning widely and laughing, clapping XRB-59 on the back companionably.

"Haha, I'll meet anyone you have to show me!"

XSR-59 turned to look at him, face suddenly twisting in defensiveness, a startling change from the blush beforehand.

"Just don't scare him, or do anything weird, moron!" XSR-59 growled as menacingly as he could.

XRB-80 cast a discerning eye over XSR-59, and, judging him to be quite serious, allowed himself to crack another smile.

"There's nothing to worry about, 59! I'll be good!" And with that, XSR-59 turned on his heel and marched down the corridor, not bothering to look behind him to check that XRB-80 was following.

XRB-80, of course, followed him, just as he had followed his lead for months in missions. Despite the Facility staff's belief that SRs were only good for distractions, what with their volatile natures, XSR-59 had proven himself to have an incredible intellect, and a good head for strategy. XRB-80's ability to flawlessly execute the missions, and his natural instincts leading him in missions complemented XSR-59's own expertise in ways the staff wouldn't have ever believed.

Their continued pretence that XRB-80 was the slave leading the mission, with XSR-59 being the flashy distractor, was only kept up because of some innate _knowing_ that keeping the information on the down low would be useful somehow in the future. They didn't know how, they didn't know why, but they _knew_ that they had to imitate the status quo in the eyes of the Facility. And, by some unspoken agreement, they did.

Following XSR-59's lead had, in the past, saved them both on a number of occasions. So, XRB-80 decided to trust in his judgement once again.

XRB-80 emerged from his thoughts as their pace slowed from a brisk stride to a more wary tread. They were getting close to this 'friend.'

*.*

XRB-80 stared at the tiny, scared looking boy in front of him, slightly unimpressed. _This_ is who XRB-59 chose as his ally? Sure, he looked nice enough - if a little on the nervous side - but in the Facility, your choice of comrade could mean life or death. Nothing against the kid or anything, it just didn't seem logical to XRB-80.

He turned to look at XRB-59, wiping his expression of any doubt, instead plastering another smile onto his face, feeling the unknown boy's gaze sharpening as soon as he changed expressions.

Which, what. _How could he have known, XRB-80 hadn't even looked at the kid since they arrived let alone even said a word to him ever before?_

"Haha! So, who's this, 59?"

"27." He said shortly.

XRB-80 paused, waiting to hear his full division identification. When no answer appeared to be forthcoming, he laughed a little, slightly stung. The boy exhaled sharply. Out of the corner of XRB-80's eye, he saw him flinch minutely.

"Alright, 27 then!"

"U-um, it's alright, 59. He won't hurt me." The boy spoke for the first time, softly at first, but gaining strength as he continued. XRB-80 gritted his teeth at the unfounded trust in 27's voice.

He looked to XRB-80, smiling tentatively. "It's very nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends."

XRB-80 laughed, a hint of frost entering his voice. "Sure. I'll see you around." He turned and walked away, not having meant a word of what he said.

The Facility was not for the weak. And XRB-80 couldn't afford to make 'friends' with people who would drag him down.

*.*

For the next few weeks, his interactions with XSR-59 were understandably frigid. XRB-80 had, for all intents and purposes, snubbed XSR-59's first true 'friend.'

But XRB-80 couldn't, _wouldn't_ accept that the ally he had come to respect, trust, even _like_ \- he couldn't understand how XSR-59 could possibly have 'befriended' someone so _weak,_ so _vulnerable_.

Hadn't their experiences taught them that you couldn't have any weaknesses? A weak link like that 27 character could lead to one's death, or worse.

XSR-59 may have been content to be used or dragged down, but XRB-80 was not.

Even if it meant isolating himself from the only one who had ever shown any care for him whatsoever.

*.*

XRB-80 cursed in his head, running as fast as he could, XSR-59 right on his heels. The mission had been a clusterfuck from start to finish. With the stunted communication between the dynamic duo, everything, _everything_ had gone wrong.

Now XRB-80 know what those scientists were talking about when they said "Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong." Before, he had just thought them pessimistic creeps. Now, he felt their pain deeply.

When they had first been assigned the mission, it was considered practically a milk run. They had been the only team unoccupied, and their Overseer had seen fit to assign it to them in hopes of a quick, uncomplicated operation. As it should have been.

It had started out fine and dandy, with their target being a fat, balding man who threatened a client with some piece of blackmail - nothing they were concerned with. All they knew was that he had terrible security, and almost zero backing in the underworld. A simple mission, meant for trainees.

There was only one problem. The two had received their information separately, with only XSR-59 knowing all the information. One of the briefers had assumed XRB-80 would be caught up by his partner, and, unaware of their recent argument, had let XRB-80 leave the compound only knowing half of what he needed.

XSR-59 was told to provide backup, and XRB-80 was the team leader. With XRB-80 carefully slipping a knife into the man's nape, the task was completed.

However, that was where everything went wrong.

*.*

The two assassins raced down the hallway, nearly side by side. You could hear their frantic breathing from across the hallway, both wild-eyed with fear.

This had been their first mission that had turned sour together, and it was XRB-80's fault. It wouldn't have been so fear-inducing if it had been XSR-59's, seeing as he was an _SR_ \- they were practically expected to mess up every now and again due to their fiery nature!

But _no._ It had been XRB-80 to set off an alarm, not realizing there were any functioning security cameras outside of the main mansion's blueprint he had been given.

The Overseer would send him to the _Room_. XRB-80 slowed down a little just thinking about it, quickly picking up his pace again at the look XSR-59 shot him.

A tear snuck its way out of his eye, XRB-80 barely registering its presence before he swiped it away.

He didn't have _time_ to think about that! He was the team leader, he had to get them out! He trembled a little as they ran, short, huffing breaths escaping the two as they grew more and more tired.

"How large is this place!" XSR-59 exploded after streaking through several floors, with still no end in sight.

They had to take a different way out, or so XRB-80 had thought. He had been informed of security cameras in the man's mansion, so after the mission was completed, he had planned to loop around to the servant's quarters, then make their way into the cellar to a secret path into the sewer system.

He hadn't known there was a security presence in the servant's quarters, and every time XSR-59 had tried to warn him, he refused to listen, instead forcing the two into an unnecessary catastrophe.

He wanted to take back the last few hours.

Without realizing it, XRB-80 had slowed into a steady halt as despair consumed him.

He was jerked out of his self-hatred by a sharp jolt on his arm. He startled, his head flying up in surprise.

XSR-59 had grabbed him harshly, practically steaming with pent-up aggression. With startling gentleness, he guided XRB-80 down the hallway into a small closet, holding his finger to his lips.

They listened carefully for about ten minutes as their pursuers stomped down the hallway, shouting to one another. Neither could make out what they were saying.

As the noise receded, XSR-59 looked at XRB-80 in askance.

XRB-80 didn't really know how to answer his companion's silent question. Instead, he nudged the other boy in front of him, letting him take the lead.

XSR-59 slowly and carefully led them through a few twists and turns, back to where they came from. From there, he quietly let them out the front door, and back to their pick-up spot.

*.*

XRB-80 wanted to die.

They had given their report on the mission. As expected, the Overseer had looked to XRB-80 to shoulder the crime of a FUBAR mission, despite XSR-59's protest of them sharing blame.

He wanted this to end.

All he could hear was an annoying drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He hated it. The Punishers had purposely left the water running after they had _tested his resistance to waterboarding._ It was a common punishment in the Room, cruel but effective.

All the while, they had whispered syrupy, poisonous words to XRB-80.

 _Your mission partner, I bet he hates you. I bet he's enjoying the break from you._

Dunk.

 _Bet he got sick of you after the first week!_

Dunk.

 _No, probably took less time than that._

Dunk.

 _First day?_

Dunk.

 _No, first hour!_

Dunk.

 _You're worthless, why are you even here?_

Dunk.

 _Didja hear? I heard he screwed up on a_ milk run!

On and on and on and on.

Toxic words, pouring constantly into his stream of consciousness. Every time he passed out, he woke up to cold water and vicious words.

He wanted to die.

He didn't want to be here, the Facility, the Room.

He hated it.

He hated himself for being _good_ at what he did.

 _He hated himself._

He raised his head from its slumped position, one inch at a time. It took practically an eternity to summon the energy to do so.

He felt like someone had literally squeezed him out and hung him out to dry.

Something shiny caught his eye. He reached towards it, forgetting his restraints.

He reached his foot out, kicking the shiny thing towards him.

It was a small dagger, the one the Punisher had used to slice him up a bit.

A little more couldn't hurt, right?

It was what he deserved, after all.

And maybe, just maybe, if he cut _just right,_ he might never have to be in the Facility another day.

He bent, as if in a trance, maneuvering expertly in his binds.

He laid the blade down his artery, knowing instinctively how to use it most effectively.

"NO!"

A shout resounded out of nowhere.

A brown and grey blur knocked the dagger out of XRB-80's hands, taking the boy's shoulders in their hands and knocking their heads together roughly.

"NEVER, EVER DO THAT AGAIN!"

As XRB-80's vision stopped swimming, he recognized the figure in front of him as 27, the wimp who had been the catalyst for his and XSR-59's falling out.

"Please!" He tacked on quickly, noticing XRB-80's quizzical look.

"Life is precious, and you, you're amazing. You can't die here, let alone at your own hands! Please live, if not for yourself, then for me, and 59."

59? Did he mean XSR-59?

"Please."

XRB-80 looked into the boy's pleading face, sensing no animosity, only the trust that had annoyed him so much. Somehow, it didn't seem that irritating right now. It seemed… endearing.

He burrowed his head into the other boy's heaving chest, a few tears making their way down his face. He didn't trust himself to speak.

He didn't know if he could completely trust 27 yet, but he knew that anyone who would help someone like him in this dog-eat-dog world, without any gain for himself, was at least worthy of consideration as an ally.

He nodded.


End file.
